


An Eye for an Eye

by GuardianofFun



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Body Horror, Mirror Universe, The Borg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-13
Updated: 2017-02-13
Packaged: 2018-09-23 23:04:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9686096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GuardianofFun/pseuds/GuardianofFun
Summary: Borrowing inspiration from the novels, a universe in which MACO Malcolm survives the blast, but not without consequence. Then Phlox comes up with an interesting solution, and Malcolm receives a piece of stolen technology.





	

**Author's Note:**

> (First up I know I have other fics to finish, and I will, but this kinda... happened)
> 
> So! Another conversation with qquark over on tumblr, this time about the mirror verse inspired me :D This is based off what I read in memory-beta on what happened to mirrorverse Malcolm in the novels - that is he survived and got a metal plate across the face. From there on, we played around. I know the timings and distances don't totally make sense, so we're just gonna pretend the Empire has a long reaching black market? Anyways, enjoy!
> 
> WARNINGS for body horror, descriptions of surgery and borg-y implants. Also Malcolm swears like one time.

Doctor Phlox hovered over his latest patient, hands clasped together in glee as he took in his handiwork. Major Reed had suffered extensive injuries during the explosion on the _Defiant,_ leaving most of his left side torn and blistered. While his arms and legs had only suffered some burns, his face would never be the same again, that is, if he even survived another night. For three days now, he had been kept under, wires feeding a multitude of drugs through the MACO’s bloodstream, some more legal than others. 

Empress Hoshi as she was now know, had considered just disposing of the body before they had left the _Defiant_ but Travis had pointed out how useful he could be, if he made it, and Phlox put forward his own case to, in the very least, be allowed to play around with what remained of Malcolm Reed. _Not that he’ll be walking anywhere anytime soon,_ Phlox though to himself as he ran a scanner over the man. His eye had been damaged beyond repair, so Phlox had taken that out first thing, and thought it made a nice addition to his shelf of oddities, suspended in fluid. He had replaced it for now with a rudimentary eyepatch made with some spare floor plating, pressed into the hollow space and wrapped for now, in bandages. As for the rest of the major’s face though, there was little more that could be done for now. The burns were extensive, Malcolm would probably never experience sensation there again. The longer the wound were exposed to the air, the more likely infection was to set in though, so Phlox pulled out a PADD to begin sketching out ideas, while the stormy grey eye watched from the corner.

* * *

Commander Tucker strode through the doors of sickbay, finding it mostly empty. A curtain had been drawn around on section, through which Trip could see the shadow of Malcolm strapped to the bed. He found himself grinning, an undeniable wave of pleasure at the idea of the Major finally getting his comeuppance. A shame he hadn’t died really, but a week later had seen his vitals improving and even a few moments of consciousness. In fairness, any ideas Phlox had could often be a fate worse than death.

Stepping further into the room, Trip found the doctor hunched over a workbench with a welder in hand. 

“Hey Doc,” he said, waving the sheets of metal in his hand to catch the doctor’s attention. Phlox turned on his heels, and grinned.

“Oh Commander, you have them!” he said, holding out a hand for the resources he had requested. Trip pulled them back out of reach though, a smirk pulling up the one side of his face that could still move. “Oh no doc, you’ve been holed up in here for days, what’ve you been doin’?” The doctor rolled his eyes and side stepped the commander. Lying on the bench was an impressive mix of sheeted metal, largely titanium, twisted into a near perfect replica of one side of Major Reed’s face. Trip let out a low whistle, moving forward to run his hands over it.

“So he looses his face and ya make him a new one, while I’m stuck lookin’ like this, huh?” he asked, turning to glare at the doctor with his one good eye. Phlox shrugs. 

“If you really want one Commander, but you can still see out of both eyes. This,” he said, tapping the metal mask “Will be virtually impossible to remove after I have implanted it. Not at all comfortable.” 

Trip nodded, handing off the last sheets. “You mean it’s gonna hurt?” he asked, the pleasure all too evident in his voice. Phlox chuckled.

“I believe so commander.”

Trip left the sickbay, laughing loud enough he hoped it might wake the aching major. 

* * *

When Major Reed finally woke, the first thing he could feel was an odd, unpleasant pressure on his face. It was like a deep burning, running from his hairline to just above his chin, wrapping over his cheek up to his lips, over his brow and even creeping up along one side of his nose. He blinked, and in one instant was shook with pain. The pain exploded from behind his left eye, as though he had torn something. It faded gradually, but each time he went to open his eyes, it flared up again.

Realisation sunk in, as when he tried his right, he was met with the ceiling of sickbay. Yet no matter what he did, everything to his left was left in utter darkness. He went to touch it, to figure out what obstructed his vision, but found his hands were strapped either side of him. Then, Phlox’s voice floated down to him.

“Try not to move too much Major,” he said, and Malcolm found himself growling in response. 

“What the fuck have you done to me?” he spat, ignoring the doctor’s orders as he tugged harder on the restraints. Phlox shushed him, pushing him down into the bed.

“I saved your life Major Reed, now would you stay still?” He came towards Malcolm with a hypospray, and Malcolm’s hand jerked against the straps in a bid to defend himself. When that didn't work, he tried twisting out of reach. The doctor just tutted. 

“If you will allow me to sedate you somewhat, I will undo some of your restraints. You, ah, kept moving around during the transplant, so I had to strap you down,” he said with the disconcerting smile on his face. As he had spoke, his hand had found Malcolm’s neck and already pushed the drugs into his system. His movements soon became slower, and true to his word, Phlox undid the restraints holding his arms in place. His hands shot up to his face, meeting flushed skin on the right but something cold on the left. His heart thudding in his chest, he let his fingers explore, meeting hard edges and cold angles. One finger traced it’s way over his cheek, finding the line where flesh met the addition. A messy line pulled skin up in a tight, painful scar against what he realised was metal. Pressed into his skin, it filled the gap where his face should have been. His stomach churned.

Phlox seemed to enjoy watching the emotions play out across his face, smiling to himself as Malcolm’s hands scrabbled at the metal plating. Malcolm’s eye darted over to the doctor, who merely smiled back at him. He waved something at him, holding it out with a smile. 

“I thought you might like to have a look at my handiwork,” he said offering the mirror. Malcolm snatched it from him, despising the chuckle it caused. He stared through his one good eyes to discover that the other one was no longer visible. The plate of metal Phlox had given him completely covered his eye socket, creating an unnerving flat plane where there should have been a dip. The sheet traced his strong jawline and followed the sharp lines of his cheekbones but as it continued upwards, it stayed in a rigid line until it met the curve of his forehead. Like something out of a sci-fi comic he looked almost robotic, bright shiny metal that reflected the blinking lights of the dials in the room. He swallowed loudly. 

“This was the only solution I could come up with Major, unless you would have preferred I had found one of these creatures to replace it with? Your face was severely burnt, I’m surprised you’ve even survived this long,” he said. Malcolm threw the mirror down and it bounced off his leg, into Phlox’s waiting hands. He had never been a vain man, but the loss of his eye stung more than the destruction of his face, because it thew off the reflexes he had spent years honing. It would take months to adjust to the difference in depth perception, and longer still to get used to the feeling of metal continuously pressing down on him.

“Am I ready to go?” he asked, his voice sharp and crisp. Phlox stared at him incredulously.

“You’ve just lost half your face, Major, you will need time to-“ 

“Am I ready to leave, doctor?” he interrupted. Phlox sighed, knowing there was no use arguing with Malcolm. 

“The rest of you is in near enough back to normal, though I cannot guarantee you won’t be walking into walls all day.”

Before he had even finished his sentence though, Malcolm had pushed himself from the bed and bolted from sickbay. 

* * *

Some months later, Malcolm was sitting in the mess hall, fork in hand as he wolfed down some lunch. Alone, as always, but it had been remarkably different since leaving sickbay, as now he was subject to everyone’s stares. Unlike the stares before the incident, these were dropped as soon as Malcolm’s eye met theirs. The plate of metal made others uncomfortable, which he didn’t mind all that much because the more people avoided him, the better, but it also irritated him to no end when the stares were accompanied by hushed whispers. Now, with his lunch almost gone and his temper flaring, he was ready to haul one of the mumbling ensigns into the agony booth, as an example. Before he could pick one though, he heard footsteps at his side.

“Phlox,” he greeted the doctor thinly, his patience not ready to withstand much of the doctor’s withering today. He heard him laugh in response, and turned to watch as the doctor sat beside him, on his left of course. Phlox had a fascination with his new creation, and took every opportunity to study it further. “What can I do for you?” the Major asked icily. 

“I come bearing great news Major! I think I _may_ have found a way to help you regain some of your sight,” he responded with a proud grin. Malcolm’s remaining brow shot up, and he could not help the flutter of hope in his chest. 

“Really?” he asked, pushing away the remains of his lunch, all thoughts of hunger forgotten. Phlox nodded, resting back in his chair with a smug look on his face.

“Come by Sickbay in an hour. We could have you seeing again by 1800.”

* * *

“What _is_ it?” Malcolm asked. The object that lay in an open case before him looked like nothing he had ever seen before. It was curved piece of metal, that on one side held a small machine that looked something akin to a microscope, with small lights running along it, while the back contained a mess of wires and electrical components. Malcolm turned his head up towards Phlox, who was looking down at the device much like a parent does their newborn.

“An optical implant from Borg medical drone,” he said, reaching forward to pick it up. “There is quite a market for spare parts in the Empire, and I managed to get my hands on one of these, they are incredibly rare.” Malcolm watched as Phlox lifted it and the wires glinted menacingly in the harsh light of sickbay. He had a feeling he was not going to like where those ended up. 

“From all the tests I have run, I believe it should be… fairly easy to implant it. It was easy enough to remove after all,” he cackled. Unease flooded the Major, and he took a step backwards. Phlox though, had swapped the implant for a hypospray, and stepped closer to Malcolm.

“Why not let me think about it for a few days, doctor?” he said, injecting as much force into his voice as possible, which wasn’t a lot as Phlox closed in on him, the hypospray reaching for his neck.

“I think not Major Reed, the Empress thinks this is a marvellous idea; you’ll go from the most fearsome man in the Empire, to the most fearsome in the universe.” 

While he had trained at length to regain the quick reflexes from before the explosion, it had not been enough to get back the agility necessary to throw the doctor off himself before he had plunged the spray into his neck. As the sedatives kicked in, he saw Phlox stumble and rub his jaw - his punch must have landed at least. It was too late though, as he felt himself crumple and fall. 

* * *

“Are ya finished doc?”

“Yes Commander, would you like to take a look?”

“You know I do, that thing looked amazin’!”

“It looks even better now - and it seems to be fully functional.”

“Is the glowing light permanent?”

“I believe so.”

“Kinda creepy. Suits ‘im.” 

 

* * *

Malcolm Reed watched himself in the mirror. Though reluctant to have the implant, his mind had changed the moment he woke upThe metal plating that he had had for some months now had dulled a little over time, but compared to the dark twisted metal of his new Borg implant, it looked practically perfect. The implant was chunky, and even embedded in the hole Phlox had made in his mask, it stood out a considerable few inches from the rest of his face. The end of the piece glowed with a deep red light while smaller lights closer to his face would blink intermittently alongside smaller components and dials. 

He watched himself smile. He looked terrifying. Half his face was an unreadable, bank sheet of inhuman metal, and now it was equipped with one of the most dangerous looking piece of alien technology he had ever seen. The implant was brilliant, not only did it send shivers down the spine of anyone he looked at, but it was powerful, so very powerful. Able to see much better than his human eye, it not only saw further and clearer, but he was able to see far beyond the human spectrum of visible light, and when Phlox had turned out every light, it was not at all difficult to see in darkness. 

Something moved in the mirror, something behind him and his drone eye picked up on it in a split second, the other eventually catching up.

“Commander,” he said, his voice void of the usual malice he reserved specially for Trip Tucker - what could he say, he was in a good mood. 

“You gonna thank me or what?” Trip asked, folding his arms over his chest. Malcolm turned to look at him properly. There was something exciting about seeing him through new eyes, as though he had been totally blind before. He could see every warped line of the commanders otherwise handsome face, every little movement of his eyes, ever crease of the scar on his face. He watched the Trip waver slightly as his gaze moved and the implant hummed as it refocused.

“Thank you, Commander?” he asked, voice innocent. Trip grimaced.

“I helped Phlox _acquire_ that new eye of yours, make sure it was workin’ properly,” he said, though Malcolm thought the way he shuffled on his feet suggested he was regretting it already. 

“Well then Commander Tucker,” he stepped forward, closing the gap so they stood nearly chest to chest. What he had intended to be just a vaguely imposing stance become slightly more intrusive when he realised the implant hovered a mere inch or two from the commanders face. He watched as Tip’s eyes darted to and from the alien creation, then to the scar that ran from his forehead to his jaw, and the mask that it held in place. Suddenly the heavy weight of Malcolm’s new face was worth it, for the flicker of fear and apprehension in Commander Tucker’s eyes.

“I wish to thank you for this wonderful new aide.” He grinned, feeling skin push against metal at the unusual movement. “You and Phlox have worked wonders,” he continued, his left hand reaching up to slap against Trip’s own scarred face. 

“You might want to ask what he can do for you next.”

**Author's Note:**

> taa-daa? I hope you enjoyed it even a little, I have way too much fun with evil characters. Any comments or criticisms I'd love to hear! <3


End file.
